The Sin of Omission
by Chash
Summary: In fall, Tomoyo always thinks of Sakura.


Title: The Sin of Omission

Author: Chash

Fandom: Card Captor Sakura

Pairings: Tomoyo/Sakura, Meiling/Tomoyo

Rating: PG

Summary: In fall, Tomoyo always thinks of Sakura.

Disclaimer: Belong to Clamp. No money made.

Notes: Christmas Cake refers to an unmarried woman over the age of twenty- six. It's a negative term, stemming from the principle that a Christmas cake is useless after the twenty-sixth (and thus a woman over twenty-six is useless if unmarried). I retained honorifics. I think Tomoyo calls Meiling "Meiling-chan," but it might be –san and I'm forgetting. Apologies if this is the case.

When the leaves begin to leave the trees and the frost starts settling on the ground and the children begin wearing bright red gloves to school, Tomoyo always thinks of Sakura.  
  
She would think, if she looks at it in that logical, detached way she should, that spring would really be the problem, when the cherry blossoms are whirling through the air around her, almost suffocating, but it's when the leaves do it that her mind inevitably refuses to go away from Sakura.  
  
She used to replay the events every week, each time with a different way she could have changed it. She could have, she used to think, been like the American movies, when, as the priest asks if there are any objections to the marriage, she could stand and say that she had one, that she loved the bride more than life itself, more than anything and everything.  
  
But she did not do that.  
  
Sometimes, she used to think, she could have just kissed her once on the cheek as she was seeing her off, so she could feel the soft skin. And maybe, somehow, everything she had been feeling could travel through Sakura's cheek, and there would have been a moment of revelation.  
  
But she did not do that, either.  
  
The day after the wedding, when Tomoyo was not suicidal, because that was silly, but just depressed beyond all words, Meiling had come and taken her away. Meiling did things in a particular, Meiling way—this time, she had walked over, hands on her hips, eyes narrowed, and said shortly, "Daidouji-san!" When Tomoyo had looked up, Meiling had sighed and touched her left temple, obviously offering a prayer for patience to a god whose name Tomoyo did not know. "Really, Daidouji-san, you should have come to me. Well, nothing to be done now. Come on!" And Meiling had pulled her up, brought her to a hotel room, and told her, in no uncertain terms, to cry her eyes out.  
  
"It will help," Meiling had insisted. Tomoyo's eyes had never been drier. "Honestly! How can you ever expect to feel better?"  
  
Tomoyo had not answered, though she should have. She should have said, "I don't expect to ever feel better."  
  
She didn't say it, though.  
  
Tomoyo does not envy Meiling, nor does she feel the other girl was somehow worse than she was. Tomoyo is amazed by Meiling. Tomoyo has never been the kind of girl who feels. Tomoyo is proper, upstanding, and does not give over to impressive displays of emotion of any kind. Sakura wears her emotions on her sleeve, cries when she is sad, smiles when she is happy, gazes with adoration when she is in love. Meiling is more complicated—she is always sweeping and consuming with her emotions, but not as honest with them as Sakura. Meiling can hide things. Tomoyo can too. That Meiling can hide them is not what Tomoyo would envy.  
  
That she does not have to—Tomoyo would give almost anything for that.  
  
Tomoyo could feel superior to Meiling, because Tomoyo is still in love with Sakura. It's not that Meiling isn't still in love with Li—Tomoyo is quite sure she is—it's that Meiling cried once and seems to be completely over it.  
  
Tomoyo realizes, bit by bit, that she should have cried.  
  
It can't be helped, though. Tomoyo pretends that means she doesn't think about it.  
  
"Really, Daidouji-san," says Meiling, who returned to Tomoeda for reasons Tomoyo does not know, "there's a time for moving on. It's been five years."  
  
"I have moved on," says Tomoyo. She's lying. She replays a fantasy—she could have told Sakura how she felt everyday since she started feeling it, so she would have taken it for granted. If she had said it... if she had said it, it would be better. Meiling snorts. It's a very unladylike thing, and Tomoyo almost envies it.  
  
"Silly Daidouji-san. If you've moved on, why don't you let Nagano- sensei take you out for coffee? Or Teramoto-san? Or even Uchida-san?"  
  
"Why don't you let Kawamoto-san?" counters Tomoyo, pouring herself some tea. They are in the teacher's lounge of the elementary school they both attended, and Tomoyo sometimes thinks that it is funny that is the place they should return to. Meiling says it is because they both used to be happy there. Tomoyo isn't sure.  
  
Meiling shrugs fluidly, her old martial artist's grace still with her. "He's not my type."  
  
"Nagano-sensei is not mine," Tomoyo smiles. Meiling puts her hands on her hips.  
  
"You won't accept anyone! Pretty soon, you'll be Christmas cake!" Meiling accuses. Tomoyo shrugs, with a different kind of grace.  
  
"You aren't really in a position to judge, Meiling-chan."  
  
"I'm tired of seeing you like this, Daidouji-san. You can't change what's happened. You need to move on."  
  
Tomoyo considers screaming at Meiling, telling her that's just not possible and some people just can't forget things like that and maybe she never really loved Li-kun at all, but Tomoyo knows it isn't true.  
  
"There is," Meiling says, quietly, "someone I'd like to go out with. But I'm not going to until you've dealt with this," she says with a sweeping gesture, as if Tomoyo needs to be dealing with the whole world, which might not be inaccurate, "Daidouji-san."  
  
Her name at the end of the sentence is so softly spoken that Tomoyo looks up. Meiling is looking at her, and not hiding anything. Tomoyo doesn't think.  
  
"It's just the fall," Tomoyo says, caressing her own hands softly, remembering the way she used to wear those red gloves in the frost and hold Sakura's hand as they went to school together in their skirts and hats.  
  
"No," says Meiling, "it isn't."  
  
"Don't wait on my account," says Tomoyo, remembering what Meiling said. "It's going to be a long time coming."  
  
"I haven't got much of a choice, Daidouji-san," says Meiling. The bells begin to ring, signaling classes starting. "Time to go," she says, softly. She leans over and kisses Tomoyo on the cheek, softness of lips. Tomoyo understands, not in a burst of light, but in a tired way, as if, of course, this is the only possible thing that could happen.  
  
She does not envy Meiling her ability to hide her feelings, or to convey them, or her ability to move on from Li-kun, or her ability to cry her eyes out, but she envies her that one kiss.  
  
It is fall, and Tomoyo is thinking of Sakura and springtime and laughter, and wants more than anything to take Meiling's hand and take her out for coffee or juice or anything.  
  
But she doesn't do that, either. 


End file.
